Between The Shadow and The Soul
by DolbyDigital
Summary: Written for Ella (Crazy Aunt Ella). [1] Bellatrix/Lucius [2] Barty/Regulus [3] Narcissa/Hermione [4] James/Bellatrix - He shivered in the cold night air, regretting having left his scarf, but he would warm up soon enough.
1. Mistaken for Caring

_[Bellatrix/Lucius]_

* * *

She threw her weight into him, forcing his back to scrape painfully against the rough stone wall.

"You're out after hours," he said, voice calm despite the wince that adorned his features. She threw her head back, realising a harsh bark of laughter.

"You're not going to give me detention, are you Lucius?" she asked, features twisting into a mockingly sweet expression.

He smirked, about to reply, but her lips were already crashing into his, her teeth breaking skin, her hands gripping his biceps, effectively pinning him in place, and sure to leave bruises in the shape of her fingers.

"You need to learn when to shut up," she hissed, her teeth scraping the shell of his ear. She bit hard into the flesh just below his jaw, her fingers loosening their hold slightly, and he took the opportunity.

Her back collided with the wall, hard, and a small gasp escaped her lips. A leg wrapped around his calf, and she grinned up at him, all teeth, a predatory look in her hooded eyes.

"Would you do this with dear little Cissi?" she whispered, grin widening. The image of a Doxy about to bite flashed through his mind.

He pushed away from her harshly, leaning against the opposite wall, breathing heavily.

"Don't talk about her like that," he hissed, but the words sounded weak to his own ears.

"Why not?" she taunted. "Do you _love_ her? Care about her _feelings_?"

"You know I do."

"Then why are you here?" She folded her arms across her chest, looking smug; she clearly thought she had won this.

He struggled to formulate a reply; mouth open, trying to form words that he didn't yet have. Her laugh echoed through the corridor, and, distantly, he worried that someone might hear.

"You don't seem in any hurry to leave." Still laughing, she pushed away from the wall and disappeared down the corridor, hips swaying with every step.

Somehow, he was left feeling wronged.

.oOo.

The next morning, that feeling became justified.

He took his usual seat at the Slytherin table, frowning when all discussion around him stopped abruptly.

"What's going on?" he snapped, glaring at those around him.

"As if you don't know," a girl a few years below him snapped - she was Narcissa's friend, he knew that much. The Greengrass girl? Rowle?

He frowned slightly, noting the seat next to her was empty, and scanned the length of the table for Narcissa. His eyes landed on Bellatrix instead, and she smiled brightly at him, seeming genuinely happy. He felt dread pool in his stomach.

.oOo.

It wasn't until later in the day that he managed to corner her. The good mood from breakfast seemed to have lasted, and that worried him more than anything else that had happened today - more than the odd looks he'd been receiving from his housemates, and a few braver members of other houses; more than Narcissa's unexplained absence.

"Ah, Lucius," she practically purred, stepping closer to him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He didn't say anything, simply gripped her arm tightly and dragged her into the closest empty room, shoving her through the door and locking it behind them.

"Why?" he hissed, glaring down at her.

"Why what?" she asked innocently, her voice sounding strange distorted by such a tone.

"Why have you done this?" he hissed. "Do you enjoy causing other people pain so much?" He laughed then, the sound harsh and broken to his own ears. "Of course you do. How could I forget, you're a _sadistic_ little-"

"Me? None of this is my fault. I was just looking out for my sister," she said.

"Your sister? You can't _honestly_ think this shows how much you _care_ for her."

"I care more for her than you."

"How could you _possibly_ -"

"Why are you here, Lucius?" she repeated the question from last night. "Have you spoken to her at all today? Do you even care that this is affecting her, too?"

"I-"

"Why are you always seeking _me_ out?" She pulled away from him and walked calmly towards the door. "Really, Lucius," she said, wordlessly unlocking the door, "someone might mistake it for _caring_."


	2. Needless Risks

_[Regulus/Barty] Implied romance if you squint._

* * *

"I really hate you sometimes," Regulus whispered, doing his best to express his glare in his voice.

"I know you do." Regulus' glare darkened upon hearing the smirk in Barty's voice. "Now, if you don't want to get caught, I suggest you _shut up_."

Barty turned his attention back to the front entrance, peering through the gap in the banisters, and, after a brief moment of hesitation, Regulus did the same.

"Should we really be here?" he asked tentatively, looking away from his friend.

"We have to see who's here," Barty whispered. "You said you used to do this all the time, anyway. I don't see what the problem is."

"With my brother, when we were _children_ ," Regulus hissed. "When, if we got caught, the worst that would happen is a missed meal and a sore backside."

"Well, what's the worst that could happen now? We'll be fine if you just _stopped talking_."

" _What's the worst that could happen_?" Regulus repeated incredulously. "Have you _met_ my cousin?"

"It doesn't matter. I just want to know who's here, and then we can go."

"Is this the _only_ reason you wanted to visit my aunt with me?"

"No, of course not." Barty flashed a smile in Regulus' direction. "I just wanted to see, that's all. There's no harm in it, is there?"

"Unless we get caught," Regulus muttered.

.oOo.

"Yaxley was there," Barty hissed, pulling Regulus' attention away from his Transfiguration essay.

"Where?"

"That meeting. At your cousin's house. He was there."

"So?"

"So, we should-"

"Wait, meeting?"

"Yes, meeting. You can't honestly be that oblivious, Regulus," Barty scoffed. "Now, since I highly doubt you'd be willing to ask Bellatrix-"

"No one's stupid enough to call it a _meeting_ , Barty, and I'm not as _oblivious_ as you would believe." Regulus turned his attention back to his homework.

"Then what do you propose we do?" Barty snapped, clearly irritated now.

"We're still at Hogwarts. There's not much we could do for the cause." Regulus replied blandly.

"Our families have connections, we could-"

"There are people with connections that are just as good - some even better - than our families could provide."

"So, what? We're useless?"

"Weren't you listening? I said there _wasn't much_ we could do. But what separates us from everyone already recruited?"

"I… I don't know. We're just students…" Barty trailed off, frowning.

"Exactly. We have easy access to _Hogwarts_." Regulus set his quill aside.

Barty's eyes widened, grin spreading across his face.

"So we should talk to…" he questioned.

"Narcissa."

"Narcissa?" The grin fell from his features almost comically quickly. "What good will she do?"

"She can talk to Lucius," Regulus explained slowly.

"Why can't we go to him?"

"He'll be much more agreeable to Narcissa."

"Why not just ask Bellatrix?"

"No. The woman's clearly insane. Or getting there, at least."

.oOo.

"What changed?" Barty asked, nearly a year later, lying back on Regulus' bed.

"What do you mean?" Regulus asked, glancing at Barty over the top of his book.

"You were so worried before. Scared of getting caught. What changed?"

"I just don't see the point in taking needless risks when there is an easier solution." He turned his attention back to the yellowed pages.

"So why didn't you just _tell me_ that you had a better idea?"

"I wanted to see how long it would take you to figure out."

He shut _Magick Moste Evile_ loudly, setting it on his nightstand with a sigh; it wasn't what he was looking for.


	3. Pale Lips and Reddened Cheeks

_[Hermione/Narcissa] Vampire AU. Hermione's pretty out of character (I've never been particularly good at writing her), so I apologise for that._

* * *

Hermione watched, red eyes glinting in the light cast by the nearby streetlamp, as the woman walked alone. Her breath ghosted before her, her lips pale and her cheeks red, as she shivered. The night was cold - not unusual for this time of year, but colder than the resent weather had been - and Hermione wondered briefly why the woman would be out alone in such conditions, especially in this deserted part of town.

But she didn't dwell on it long, for this woman would do perfectly - Hermione, after all, had no need of her mind in this instance.

She followed her further down the street, watching her every move with starved attentiveness. Her gaze was caught by the shadow of a sharp cheekbone, the curve of her eyelashes, the slight smirk of her lips.

The woman stopped at the end of the narrow path, turning, staring right at Hermione, despite the precautions she had implemented to remain hidden.

"Well, vampire, did you enjoy the journey?" The woman laughed, blonde hair framing her face and pale blue eyes regarding Hermione with a coldness that matched the night.

Hermione carefully stepped from her hiding place, surprise pushed to the side for the time being.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Several cloaked figures - and _how_ had she not noticed their presence before now? She must really be slipping - emerged from the shadows, standing in loose formation around the woman.

"My husband's master requires your presence," she stated, seemingly emboldened by the figures surrounding her. She needn't have been; Hermione could take care of them in an instant if she so desired.

"Husband? Pity." Hermione stepped closer to the group, attention solely on the woman, feeling pleased at the brief look of worry that crossed her features. _Good. She had been getting a bit too confident for a moment there_.

"He's a very powerful man, you know."

"Of course, dear."

"And- And his master wishes for you to join his cause," the woman stuttered momentarily, but seemed to regain her composure.

"Perhaps we could talk more, just you and I," Hermione suggested, stepping ever closer to the woman.

 _"Narcissa_ ," the cloaked figure to the woman's immediate left hissed, believing Hermione unable to hear such a hushed tone. The husband, presumably.

"What do you say, _Narcissa_?" Narcissa flinched. "I give you my word that you will survive the evening."

.oOo.

Narcissa looked around her, expression that of confusion.

"This is where you live?"

"For now." The cottage was small, once having belonged to an elderly lady and her cat; the cat was still in residence - Hermione had named him Crookshanks - a feisty creature she had taken quite a liking to, and no small part of the reason as to why she had chosen this particular cottage.

Shelves lined every available wall - Hermione's only contribution to the furnishings - and were crammed so full of books that each shelf sagged towards the middle. More books were stacked on the floor, tucked out of the way, and the coffee table.

"It's very… _cosy_ ," Narcissa said with a slight air of distaste.

"And what is wrong with that?" Hermione asked defensively. She happened to quite like the little house she lived in, and enjoyed the isolation it provided.

"Nothing, nothing," Narcissa was quick to reassure. "I only meant that it isn't quite… _befitting_ for one of your stature."

"Ah." Hermione's eyes narrowed. "And what do you think _is_?"

"I…" Narcissa trailed off. Hermione could hear her heartbeat quickening, see it in the pulse of her neck. Her mouth filled with saliva, and she couldn't help but lick her lips just thinking of what this woman would taste like.

"No worries, _Narcissa_. I'm sure you meant no harm."

"Y-you promised. You promised you wouldn't kill me!" Narcissa's voice trembled as she spoke, her pulse still quickening. Her cheeks flushed beautifully, and her eyes shone brightly with fear.

"I did, didn't I?" Hermione mused, inching closer to the other woman. She could feel the heat emanating from her even at this distance, and it was _intoxicating_.

"Don't worry, _Narcissa_ ," she enjoyed the way her tongue curled around the name, "you shan't be dying tonight."


	4. Cannot Escape You

_[Bellatrix/James] The lyrics are from Running Away by Fuel._

* * *

 _Everyday you're on my mind_

 _Pain is feeling passing time_

.oOo.

He looked down at the sleeping form of his soon-to-be-wife, tracing her soft features with his eyes - the supple curve of her cheek, the gentle upturn of her nose, her plump lips parted slightly on a breath. He pressed his lips to her temple, drawing away from her slowly.

He hated himself for doing this - for doing this _to her_ \- but, somehow, it wasn't enough to bring him to stop. He wasn't sure if anything would be, by this point.

Being as quiet as he possibly could, he dressed himself and left their bedroom. She didn't stir once.

.oOo.

The graveyard was completely deserted by the time he arrived - there was no doubt it would be; very few people felt the need to visit the dead in the darkest hours of the night. He shivered in the cold night air, regretting having left his scarf, but he would warm up soon enough.

She always arrived exactly six and a half minutes after him - he assumed she waited for his arrival and timed it exactly, though he would never mention it to her - and so he didn't worry when five minutes had passed with no sighting of her.

When the seventh minute ticked past, he felt the vague tingling of worry forming in the back of his mind, but still he waited.

By the tenth minute, that worry had taken over his mind, and it was all he could do to remain still.

On the thirteenth minute, she stepped out of the shadows - no tell-tale sound of Apparition; she had been waiting - walking over to him as though she had just arrived.

"You waited," she said, and he couldn't quite detect the emotion clouding her tone.

"Of course. Anything for you." He smirked, instantly pushing aside the worry of the last few minutes. She was here now.

"Not quite _anything_ ," she whispered, mock sadness distorting her features.

"Bella," her eyes narrowed slightly, " _Bellatrix_ , you know I can't."

"I think you could," she whispered.

"You know I can't. I love her," James insisted, pulling Bellatrix towards him.

"Then what are we doing here?" she asked, as if this were a sudden revelation to her.

"I love you, too," he whispered into the shell of her ear.

She grinned, more teeth than anything - a look that would have worried him from anyone else; a look that _should have_ worried him from her - and her eyes darkened as she looked up at him.

"That's all I needed to hear," she whispered; distantly, he noticed the predatory tone, knew he shouldn't be ignoring the alarm bells it set off, but he was long past caring. Once Bellatrix had ahold of you, there was no escaping.

.oOo.

He was always very careful, when he returned home, to hide any evidence of these meetings. Healing charms and salves had become second nature to him since this had begun, and he deftly applied them to the bite marks and bruises that adorned his body.

He slipped back into bed with Lily, pulling her towards him and inhaling the honey scent of her shampoo.

He would do everything in his power to protect her from this.

.oOo.

 _But if she found out about you she would die_

 _And if I have to live without you so would I_


End file.
